Friends

I don't know why, but I have always been a loner in life. There are some people that I connect with, usually on a very deep level, but with only a few exceptions, even those friendships have been transient (some longer than others). I haven't been blogging lately for two reasons. First, I'm really busy with work and working on my house and kid stuff, so I haven't had much time. The other is because I took to heart something a virtual stranger said to me. Virtual being somewhat of a pun... someone who reads my blog said something to the effect, write for you, not for what people think. I don't know if it's what he meant (although I have a feeling), but I took it in the right way, regardless. Sometimes I let anger over past events take hold of me, and I strike out (albeit with the truth) knowing it will likely have an impact. I guess in my heart I feel that's not right. Another example of "pure motivation"...

Anyway, the reason I am compelled to write now is that I have had the most nostalgic and thought provoking day. The prospect of selling my house sent me to the storage room, where I quickly realized I had accumulated a bunch of crap! I set about getting rid of whatever I could, and that meant opening boxes that hadn't seen the light of day in years. I found stuff I had long since forgotten.

One box I stumbled on had memories of my friend, Donna West... a.k.a. Frenchy. She was an incredibly supportive friend, but we were very different from one another. It was an odd combo, but we trusted each other with all the truths in our lives, and we never let each other down. When I met her, she was in remission from breast cancer. A few years later, on her five year anniversary, it was one of those milestone doctor visits. Unfortunately, they found a spot in her hip, and it turned out to be breast cancer that had metastasized to her bones. I moved away from Illinois a year or so after that, and she succumbed a year or so later. Today I came across her letters telling me about her optimism. She writes (this was either right before or right after a bone marrow transplant), "Chemo starts today, yeah! Finally! I won't feel bad today - only 2-4 days, I'll be out of it. Then on the road to recovery! I hope! Pray, pray, pray for me, honestly! This has to work, it's my life! After talking to nurses, I have a good outlook. Everything is routine, it's gotta work. Keep good thoughts, ok?" She signs off, "Don't forget about me you hussy (had to joke some!). I love you, can't wait to see you and I will. I'm never gonna take anything for granted again! I hope! Yes, I know, I am weird! See ya, sis. Frenchy" The ultimate example to me that life is not fair, and it made me ashamed of some of the things that bother me in life.

Then I came across my "God can". This was made for me by my friend Angie Sapp. She made pottery and I probably have about eight of her pieces scattered about my house and work. My "God can" was packed away for my move six years ago. Angie and I are no longer friends; we drifted apart and life just happened, and our season came and went. I still think of her often though, most because the pottery reminds me of her. (Frenchy gave me six Christmas ornaments... and letters.) For those that don't know what a "God can" is, it's jar you put your worries in and ask God to handle. He can. Angie inscribed on the inside of the lid "Worry about nothing, pray about everything." What's ironic is, my God can had notes in it from 6-7 years ago, from me and my daughter (who would have been around eight at the time). One note I wrote while I was pregnant with my son, and today it made me so thankful. Thank you God, for answering my prayers, and thank you, Angie, for all these years later still giving me a place to put my worries!

Men's Journal

I had a friend call me today and tell me he was bored with my blog, I needed to write something. I have been so busy, starting with last weekend. I had a vacation day scheduled Friday, but I busted my ass on my house getting it ready for sale. Then work called Saturday night and I wound up working all night, which blew my Sunday. And I've worked every night this week; I'm exhausted! But in the name of keeping my blog "not boring" (which I admit is a stretch for my boring life), I'm going to blog about something I had on my list.

As I was waiting on the tarmac during my flight back from Austin, I was trying to do the right thing and act interested in the what the old man next to me was saying. He lived in Indiana, was in Austin on business... blah, blah, blah. I couldn't do it, and his breath had something to do with that. I stared at the seat pocket in front of me and used my power of positive thinking that someone had left something very interesting in there just for me. I wore out SkyMall on the trip out (there is some cool stuff in there). I reached in the pocket and pulled out... Men's Journal! The new and current issue, rock on!

Now, I'm the typical woman who can't resist thumbing through Cosmopolitan, Self, Glamour, and the likes, if they're sitting in front of me. But I get sick of all the ads.... pages and pages of the same old stuff: makeup, perfume, jewelry, fashion. And the same old crap about losing weight, sex, hair, and that about covers it. You see the same things in every women's mag. So when I pulled out Men's Journal with a picture of Bear Grylls on the cover, I held it up proudly and said to the man next to me "Awesome, I've been dying to read this!" (I don't suppose that was too obvious.)

What surprised me was how much more I enjoyed this magazine than I do ones written for me (or should I say, people of my gender). The story on Bear was great, as were the stories on extreme skiing, MRSA (which, unfortunately, I could relate to, http://comojanine.blogspot.com/2009/01/mrsa.html), new cars, commuter bikes, fitness, food, gear... and not one makeup ad! OMG, I'm subscribing! I'm not sure what this says about me. No, I don't have penis envy! :)